Of Nobles and Their Double Standards
by Neferit
Summary: Eamon tries to make Cailan divorce Anora. It doesn't go as planned.


**A/N:** Written for a prompt at dragonage_kink meme. Anon said:

_I submit to you again that it might be time to put Anora aside. We parted harshly the last time I spoke of this, but it has been a full year since then and nothing has changed._  
_-One of those Return to Ostagar letters_

_Arl Eamon's first attempt to convince Cailan to ditch Anora. Idealistic Cailan telling his uncle where to shove it._

Sounded like an idea, since I'm developing dislike for Eamon as well.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, just my new pair of shoes and cup of coffee. Oh, and a bar of delicious Milka chocolate, om nom nom.

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**Of Nobles and Their Double Standards  
**

Cailan knew he was often considered idiot or at least rather childish by quite a few nobles, but he certainly would expect better from his own uncle. His uncle who just told him that he must kick his wife aside and find a new one.

He forced his irritation down. Bryce, Teyrn Cousland, was waiting for an audience he requested several days ago, and that was a noble who actually fitted the definition of noble; direct, honourable, sly and faithful more than would probably be healthy. Not like Eamon, who fitted the Orlesian definition of noble more and more each passing day. Thinking of that, Loghain would probably have a field day, given his distrust towards everything related to Orlais. _'Keep it down, Cailan,'_ he though, forcing himself to breath deeply, _'keep it down until you do not have a friendly noble waiting in the next room.'_

"You know it's true, Cailan. You _must_ divorce Anora, and find another, possibly younger, wife."

"I can't believe you are actually saying that, Eamon," he snapped. "It was _you_ who together with Loghain and my father pushed towards alliance between houses Theirin and Mac Tir, and now you are _advising_ me to break the alliance off?"

"The situation is changed..." started Eamon but Cailan wasn't about to let him finish. "Right. So the situation is changed. In case you haven't noticed, _Uncle_," he stressed the word showing the familial relation, "the Theirins are not the most fertile house in the Ferelden. _Guerrins_ themselves are not the most fertile house in the whole of Ferelden either, your parents probably being exception of the rule by having three children. Just because we were married for four years now doesn't mean a thing. _You_, of all people, should know that. It took you years to get one child as well."

It was probably a bit underbelt hit, to throw Eamon's marriage in his face like that, especially since quite a few Fereldan nobles were criticising Eamon for marrying an Orlesian out of so many eligible noblewomen in Ferelden, especially since they were married over decade before Isolde gave him Connor. And the man dares to tell him to discart his wife on exactly the same problem he had in his marriage as well. Like hell he cares about underbelt punches.

Now his uncle was bright red, obviously focing himself to calm down as well, Cailan noted with grim satisfaction. With sense of finality, he rose from his chair, signaling his uncle that the time he had for him is over. Elric Maraigne, one of his most trusted servants, came over to stand by the Arl, to kick him out by force if needed.

"We are not finished, Cailan," warned Eamon as he rose to his feet. Cailan scowled - as much as he disliked his father-in-law doing all the scowling business, sometimes a scowl was much better than his usual smile or easy-going smirk.

"We are," he replied, leaning on his hands, gripping the edge of his desk. He nearly wanted to ask Bryce to come some other time - but his friend had been waiting for the audience for quite some time now, and it wouldn't be fair to him. Not to mention, he knew he could tell the teyrn anything and no one would ever hear of it from him.

"Your Majesty?" sounded Elric's voice.

"Yes, Elric," he answered the unvoiced question. "Please, show Teyrn Cousland in, bring us something to drink and leave us."

"As you wish, Your Majesty. Teyrn Cousland?"

There were some noises of opening and closing doors, drink being poured and chairs being pushed to the desk. Next thing he knew he was sitting by the fireplace in his study, glass of whiskey in his hand with no idea how he got there and Teyrn Cousland was standing over him with worried expression.

"Your Majesty, are you feeling well?"

"No," he replied before he could stop himself. Teyrn Cousland frowned slightly. "Does that," he started carefully, minding the upset state his King obviously was in, "have anything in common with the loud voices coming from here before?"

Cailan looked up to the worried face of his friend. With sardonic grimace he knocked the rest of his whiskey back. "Everything," he said, "and nothing. Now," he rose to his feet, motioning Teyrn Cousland to follow him, "how is Highever this time of year?"

He knew Bryce wouldn't let it slide, and would approach the reasons for his distress at some later date or wait for him to start talking about it first. But now, it was calming to listen to the older man speaking so fondly of his home, and family.

_Family._

It was something he envied Bryce. What he envied Eamon. One day, he hoped, he and Anora will be able to create a family of their own. And if not, they will come up with solution, whether Eamon likes it or not.


End file.
